Ride On
by Cabster
Summary: Tseng’s wondering why he’s alone and drunk in a bar when he should be out finding Sephiroth. But what’s more worrying is his interpretation of a jukebox set to random and the resignation of his voice of reason. Reviews are always appreciated!


**Ride On**

Summary: Tseng's wondering why he's alone and drunk in a bar when he should be out finding Sephiroth. But what's more worrying is his interpretation of a jukebox set to random and the resignation of his voice of reason. Or how a drunken night and an AC/DC song can land you in the Temple of the Ancients.

Spoilers: None (except Sephiroth's location at one part of the game)

Rating: PG

Warnings: None really, some extremely brief references to bar shenanigans and sex, little bit of depression and conscience reminding going on with a bit of subtle humour, so as to save on tissue consumption.

Disclaimer: SE owns Tseng and Sephiroth, not me. I'm just playing here. AC/DC own the song 'Ride on' and a damn fine song it is too, I'm just playing with that too…. Or rather playing that song too much!

Author's note: This may not be strictly cannon and I'd like it to be, please let me know if there are any obvious holes that detract from the story.

* * *

The bar was dimly lit; a fitting shade of neon blue reflected from the rain soaked streets outside to fit the mood of the quiet bar. This wasn't a 'good time' place; it was a wallowing place to drown your sorrows quietly and end it all with one last shot before stumbling back to the fast pace of life that would come with the rising of the sun. Tseng wondered why these bars were always made with wooden furnishings; a dark beer ingrained finish that seemed to make every hard surface pliable to the touch. As if the angular furnishings had absorbed everything over the years; the blood of a bar fight, the rowdy cheer of sloshing glasses overflowing with celebratory beer, the tears of the forgotten and the sweat of the impassioned when the deep blue curtains would close on another night of business and the impish barmaid would throw down her hair and her morals to the last willing customer. 

But no liquids were to spill tonight; Tseng was too refined for that. Yes he'd had a bad day, but that didn't mean he had to take it out on the peeling varnish of the table he leaned over nor the threadbare cushioned bench he sat on, that had once imitated a comfortable seat of sorts. It seemed all of humanity was excused from Tseng's mood; he sat alone in his sheltered corner, a hollow bubble of a man replaying his life so far in his mind.

There was nothing specific, there never really was. This was perhaps the most troubling thing of his depression; he couldn't pinpoint it and therefore couldn't fight it. Tseng didn't like the helplessness of swinging at a fog bank. Like Sephiroth, his mood was always just beyond his reach. The graceful man put the bottle he had been idly rolling between his hands to his lips and tried to wash away the noise within himself with the amber chill that wound down his throat. When Sephiroth would be caught he'd feel better, of course he would. He would participate in a drunken night with his Turks and simply celebrate; the family like unit forgetting their jobs for a night until the next Sephiroth rose. Tseng wished he could blame his mood on the elusive soldier, but the truth was that nights like these were irregular yet often enough to worry the dark man.

Reno and Rude had learnt to recognise when he needed space, they would respectfully leave the Turk leader and embark upon some mission for the evening, childish enough that it would guarantee Tseng's absence. He had a strict don't ask, don't tell when it came to those two; however he rarely had to ask. Last time it was dying the science team's uniforms blue and accusing then arresting them for impersonating a Turk. Reno's explanation was that it was the only way to get Rude to talk to a lab assistant that the redhead had dramatically insisted his partner was in love with. Rude's explanation had been simple; it kept Reno out of more serious trouble (the stoic man had added that Tseng didn't want to know what the original plan had been.) Tseng smiled for the first time of the evening; he knew the real reason. His Turks weren't a bunch of mindless drones; they needed stress relief just as he needed these evenings alone. But more importantly they needed their boss, their leader. Reno and Rude would accept one night of depression but never two; so they would always make sure Tseng had to come back to them and be their boss, their moral guidance in a job of too few morals. Unfortunately the newest recruit hadn't caught on to this subculture that had developed within the Turks. Elena had insisted she go with Tseng tonight, wanting to discuss some report that really shouldn't have mattered outside working hours. Tseng lifted the bottle to his lips once more and was glad of his longer standing Turks; a mention of Reno's name written in red traffic lights across the city (no doubt causing wide scale confusion in grid locked traffic) and the sight of Rude with wire cutters had ensured Elena's new babysitting role in the evening. The more worrying thought was what tomorrow would result in; a token disciplinary or a search for whichever Turk had lost the battle of wits that was no doubt currently underway. Tseng would have normally placed his money on Reno and Rude, but Elena had something about her that made him wonder just who's name would be written across the city in traffic lights; she had an innocent determination that was both admirable and dangerous.

Tseng sighed as he rolled the neck of the bottle between his fingers; why was he here tonight? Life had been non-stop recently, he should have been with his Turks helping them to relax and perhaps not bring the city to a stand still. But here he was in this empty bar, alone in the over populated city of Midgar and watching the empty bottle move between his fingers.

The sound of a static hum, a machine clicking into life then a deep four count of a bass guitar filled the bar. The bass rhythmically swelled into the background ambiance of the bar becoming just another part of it. Two simple chords of an electric guitar laced over the four bass notes then wove their way into Tseng's mind. A mid range major chord then a higher minor chord, mid range, step up, mid range step up, major, minor, major minor. It was more soothing than any beer he'd drunk so far.  
"It's another lonely evening"  
Sang the comforting voice oozing into the dry atmosphere lacking bar like thick chocolate laced with hot brandy. Tseng lifted his head; the jukebox was on random but like everything else in this bar, suited his mood.  
"In an-other lonely town"  
Midgar was anything but empty however was one of the most solitary places he'd ever had the misfortune of adding to. Perhaps that would be the answer to his troubles, a quick fix marriage, two point four children and a job that…. No, he could never change his job, never quite and he never wanted to. Women weren't the solution; perhaps he just needed a beer buddy? Reno and Rude functioned well enough with this arrangement, albeit suspiciously well. Still the bass notes carried the momentum of those two chords that were now changing pitch slightly.  
"But I ain't too young to worry"  
Tseng thought for a minute, just how old was he? He gave a short inward breath as the figure emerged in his mind, checked with his last birthday, confirmed the memory of waking up in a bath hugging a bottle of shampoo and told him that he was indeed not too young to worry.  
"And I ain't too old to cry"   
The fine featured man drew the line there. He may have been depressed but he wasn't about to start crying, even if the statement may have carried some small shred of truth to it. He still had his dignity, despite it being a bit depressed.  
"When a woman gets me down"  
The singer added in a cheeky tone of low mocking. Tseng raised his hand and waved another beer his way, his eyes slowly travelling up the barmaid's well defined legs that would give some brief relief if they would just wrap themselves around his waist in a tense of pleasure he knew he could inflict upon this woman. His mind travelled further up to the face, but there was never any faces; not in his line of work or lifestyle.

"I got another empty bottle."  
That low mocking tone of smooth knowing began. Tseng wanted to shout a 'ha!' As the full bottle of beer arrived at his table; this song knew nothing. He didn't even know why he was listening to each word so intently, it wasn't going to change anything, it was simply a distraction between the ten minutes of customers not feeding their coins into the jukebox. There were no customers here, only him and he didn't need music; he needed something else to fill that void in his life. His eyes blinked down and settled to a gaze at the empty bottle the barmaid had left on his table.  
"Mmmm and another empty bed."  
'Touché' Tseng thought, his bed would be empty tonight, but it was his choice.   
"Ain't too young to admit it,"  
Ok perhaps not his choice, but he had work to do and couldn't afford to enjoy the distractions a filled bed might offer; not while Sephiroth was out there putting Reno and Rude's personal havoc upon the city and his life to shame.  
"And I'm not too old to lie."  
Of course his Turks would assume what they wanted about his love life and who was he to correct them?  
"I'm just another empty head."  
'Now that's a bit harsh, I'd long for a bit of emptiness up here; a bit of pace and quiet.' Tseng stopped himself quickly. At what point had he started conversing with this singer in his head?

"Mmmm that's why I'm lonely."  
The smooth bass and guitar suddenly picked up the pace to play an angry set of rapid chords as if in response to Tseng waking to his suspension of disbelief. Three major chords followed by one minor chord repeated quickly as if to punish the Turk for having the audacity to try and escape this song.  
"I'm so lonely."  
'No I'm bloody well not.' The dark haired man crossed his arms defiantly with a 'tut'.  
"But I know what I'm gonna do…"  
The singer reached his crescendo with the guitars and paused. Tseng cocked his head to one side with interest.   
"What?" He breathed in anticipation, waiting for the song to reveal its great answer to the great unknown while shifting his seated position a little.  
"I'm gonna ride on," the singer cooed softly with determination.  
'That's it?'  
"Ride on" a slightly higher harmonising pitch.  
'You're joking.'  
"Ride on." A return to the first lower pitch in consolidation.  
'I want a refund on my thoughts.' Tseng smiled; as if a song could pinpoint his mood and give him the answer anyway. He had no one to ride tonight except perhaps the barmaid and he certainly wasn't about to add to the softness of the damp wood on the table. The graceful man set his eyebrows in a worried look; he had been spending too much time with Reno.

"Standing on the edge of the road."  
The singer quickly followed the chorus in a more desperate call to his so far usual silky tone as if asking Tseng for another chance of communication to his art.  
"Thumb in the air,"   
Tseng was feeling better though, the song had now definitely left his particular situation. He'd never run from Shinra and even if he did he'd plan it better than hitchhiking on a dusty highway. His attention wondered to peeling the label from his dark beer bottle.  
"One of these days I'm going to change my evil ways."   
The conscience he had denied acknowledging suddenly began a taunting dance in his head. Tseng shrugged off the feeling with the knowledge that he would indeed change one day and not carry the responsibility of his actions as a Turk.  
"Huh!" The singer added as if to pre-empt Tseng's brief self placation, bring the truth back home in one small utterance.  
"'Til then I'll just keep, ri-ding on."  
The guitar began a smooth variation of notes within the main song to seal the final nails in the most polite of ways.  
'Yeah,' Tseng thought as he lifted the bottle to his lips, 'I'll keep riding on with Shinra until my evil ways simply drift on to the next Turk who has to make the calls.' He took another drink and promised himself the early retirement he had been working towards would come soon, as soon as he'd ensured the safety of the men and woman who worked for him. 'Just another year.' That should give him the time he needed to protect what had now become his family.

"Broke another promise."  
The singer replied to Tseng's thoughts telling the Turk's fortune with knowing precision. The graceful man set his jaw in determination, this was one promise he wouldn't break, he would never leave Shinra, but his retirement was sealed in a contract and unbreakable; he'd made sure of hat detail when he'd signed up. His mind drifted back to his early days as a Turk, he had been so eager to change the world, so sure it was the right thing to do, so like Elena was and Reno and Rude had once been.  
"And I broke another heart."  
The Turk couldn't feel the beating in his own chest anymore; it had broken a long time ago, along with his morals and his ambition of a better world. He wouldn't let the same thing happen to Elena; he had to find some way of protecting her from this job, some way of turning back time for Reno and Rude so they could be spared his loyalty and his guilt.  
"But I ain't too young to realise."  
He'd seen President Shinra destroy so much, the web of lies he fed Midgar everyday, the same web of lies Tseng had been telling himself for far too long now. An anger began to burn inside the Turk; that was the reason he'd needed these nights alone, he had been blinding the truth with drink and now it was staring him in the face. Shinra could use the lifestream as much as it wanted to fuel the planet, he didn't care about that; he cared about his Turks and he could see happening to them what had happened to too many Turks in the past. Sephiroth was not going to be the excuse that saw another good Turk rest in a shallow grave.  
"That I ain't too old to try."  
Tseng made himself a new promise, he had spent too much time in the wings of this play; he had to do something about the latest bad guy before it was too late. He had the skills and the location. Sephiroth was just another in a long line of conquests who had tried to surpass Tseng and he would fail like the others the Turk had encountered during his flawless career.  
"Try to get back to the start."  
Tseng felt his inner strength return to the rhythmic beating of his chest. Wallowing in self-pity had never helped anyone; he made a mental note as he drank another mouthful of the slowly bubbling beer to give Reno and Rude a run for their money ensuring they wouldn't leave him to this downward spiral again. The answer wasn't to leave him to descend; it was to keep him in the game. He wasn't retiring just yet and wouldn't be pushed out from his Turks by sympathy that was now forming a bitter taste of bile in his mouth. Elena had the right idea; he had to work and be a Turk once again instead of a voice on the end of a phone. It was definitely a start to curing his conscience and sounded good enough to his now inebriated mind that resembled more of a vibrating mist pulsing to the strong beat of this infuriatingly soothing song.

"And it's another red light nightmare."  
The singer cried in a high pitch of sobering memory. The mist in Tseng's head briefly cleared as Sephiroth's image and abilities emerged like a taunting dare baiting the Turk to back down from his resolution.  
"Oh-oh and another red light street."  
'Don't play on his field, I know the game, draw him out to your level.' Tseng thought as his plan began to ensnare the soldier in his mind. A small voice inside him began to comment on the inane nature of a plan and renewed drive born from too much beer and a song about being unable to settle down, but stopped quickly as it gave up and decided that it would probably be heard more clearly in the colder light of sobriety the next morning. In short; the small voice of reason inside Tseng threw up its arms and left the scene, exit stage right.  
"And I ain't too old to hurry,"  
Tseng slammed the bottle onto the table and threw down his payment.  
"Cos I ain't too old to die,"  
The small voice of reason re-emerged to remind Tseng of his mortality.  
"But I, sure am hard to beat."  
Tseng smirked as he stood up; for once this song was working with him. Sephiroth may have had skills, but he had experience and a clear head not marred by delusions of grandeur, or at least it would be clear by sunrise. The voice of reason threw down its application for a new brain to advise and handed in its resignation.

"But I'm lonely, lord I'm lonely."  
'There're worse things than being lonely.' Tseng thought as he swung his long coat onto his slightly swaying frame.  
"What am I gonna do?"  
The dark Turk smiled coldly as he made his way to the door of the bar to the singer's high cry of apprehension, apparently taking the vacancy Tseng's voice of reason had left. The guitar played a solo of clear notes to the rhythmic bass, a red carpet to escort the Turk to his mission; he would protect his family and show them what it really meant to be a Turk.

"Ride on, ride on, ride on."  
The singer warned in a soft tone with the backing singers as the song returned to its former mellow tone.  
"Got myself a one way ticket (ride on)"  
Tseng pressed his hand to the door.  
"Going the wrong way (ride on)."  
The singer tried to reason.  
"Gonna change my evil ways, one of these days."  
Tseng wondered exactly what was evil anyway. He would change his ways, for better or for worse one day; old age would see to that. But for now he was still in his prime, experienced and knew where to find Sephiroth; the Temple of the Ancients.  
"One of these days."  
The singer mocked to welcome the final guitar solo of the song.

Tseng left the bar and stepped into the harsh streets of Midgar with a bounce. They may have been many things, but he was more and wasn't about to give up on this city, this planet or more importantly his Turks; he wasn't just another person to shirk his responsibilities and simply ride on. Before the sun rose it would be his name that would be written in traffic lights across the city and before the sun set it would be his command Sephiroth would yield to.

The end.


End file.
